Page 87 of Fear Me Not

“They’re already looking,” he says. “I’ve already checked.”

“You have? Shit.” My eyes well with tears. I don’t even know who they’re for.

“I’m sorry, Aspen. I never meant to bring so much trouble our way.”

“I was the one who brought him here, albeit inadvertently. And you weren’t the one who assaulted me, either. That was all on him.” I hate even talking about what happened. I press my knuckles to my lips. “This is all so fucked up.”

I cover my face with my hands again and bend forward, my elbows on my knees. Dov’s big hand finds my back, the warmth of his palm helping to ease the knots in my muscles.

With a sigh, I straighten again. “I need to go and find Blake. I’ve got some questions for him.”

Dov’s lips pinch. “Do you want me to come?”

I shake my head. “No, this is my battle, and I’m not afraid of your dad, Dov. I can handle him these days.” I hope I’m right about that.

The concern in Dov’s blue-gray eyes warms my soul. I might doubt his father’s motives, but I have no doubt that Dov truly loves me.

“I love you, Dov,” I tell him, aware it’s the first time I’ve ever said those words. “I’ll be okay.”

I kiss his mouth and get to my feet.

“Don’t go,” he says.

“I’m sorry.”

Without looking back, I leave the room. Adrenaline builds inside me at the thought of confronting Blake, but it’s what needs to happen. I feel braver these days, more so than when I first arrived at Windridge Hall. I don’t know what’s made those changes in me—being with these three men and realizing they need me, facing the ghosts here, learning to survive… perhaps all of those things.

I return to my room quickly and collect my cell phone from the drawer of my bedside table in which I’d tossed it. It still has charge, which isn’t surprising considering how little I use it. Before the snow fell, and when I was still drawing, I’d used it to take photographs, but there seemed to be no point in carrying it around with me. But right now, I have some suspicions.

Before the snow fell, it was easy to predict where I’d find Blake. He’d always have a project on the go, most of which I was helping him with, so I’d know to look for him there. Now, while he still has inside jobs that he works on, he doesn’t approach them with the same kind of joy and vigor that he did before, and often I’ll find him sitting in the drawing room, staring at the fire, or simply lying on his bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The short days, cold, and darkness must be affecting his mental health, too, though I doubt he’d ever admit to it.

I go on a search for him, and it doesn’t take me long to locate him. He’s in his room, standing at the window, observing the world of white beyond. I haven’t bothered knocking, and he hasn’t noticed me enter. I can’t help but take a minute to admire him. He’s wearing a close-fitting gray t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans that hug his ass and thighs. My gaze traces his muscles, and a ping of desire goes off inside me. My body aches for him, calls for him, no matter what he’s done.

I won’t run this time. No, I’ll stand up to him and make him explain.

“I need to talk to you.”

He turns at the sound of my voice and arches an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous.”

“It is. I just found out it’s possible to get internet access here via Dov’s computer. Why didn’t you tell me that when I asked you?”

“You asked me for Wi-Fi. I said it was broken, which it is. The Wi-Fi never worked here, so we needed to stick to a wired connection.”

“You manipulated the facts. You could have told me that Dov gets a connection occasionally.”

He shrugs. “We should all stay off the internet, Aspen. It’s a toxic way of spending your time.”

“Maybe it is, but it’s my choice, Blake. I thought we were over this controlling bullshit. You need to let me make my own decisions.” I take my cell phone from my back pocket. “Did you do something to my phone? Why did I get service when I first came here and haven’t had any since?”

He puts out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Curious, I do as he says. He takes my hand and uses my fingerprint to unlock the screen, then he scrolls through the apps. I can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but he seems intent on something, his brow furrowed as he concentrates. He finishes what he’s doing and gives it back to me.

“Try it now,” he says.

“What did you do?”

He gives his head a slight shake. “Just try it.”